


The Case of the Assassin and the Fox

by phoenixreal



Category: Naruto, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternative Universe - Sherlock BBC, Assassination, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Bottom Uzumaki Naruto, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, John is a Very Good Doctor, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pervert Hatake Kakashi, Possessive Sherlock, Rape, Rape Recovery, Seme Hatake Kakashi, Sexual Abuse, Sherlock Learns Teamwork, Top Hatake Kakashi, Top John Watson, Uke Uzumaki Naruto, Yakuza, Yakuza kakashi, sick Naruto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:51:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixreal/pseuds/phoenixreal
Summary: Crossover: Sherlock BBC UniverseSherlock finds himself with a new partner for a case after John ends up missing.





	1. Whispers in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> http://fuck2016charitymonth.tumblr.com/
> 
> I am very proud to present the beginning of a Charity fic request! I hope they are happy with it! Of course, this is just the beginning...
> 
> Note: FIRST DRAFT, so gimme a break. Until I get to the end, I have no idea what the characters are going to do. :)

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

Kakashi Hatake sighed as he stepped into the airport and looked around. He hated England. He hated London even more. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Jiraiya himself sent him on this mission, he wouldn’t be here. For a retired man, he certainly had more work than he had before he had retired. Granted, he had retired to look for the person he was here to find. He didn’t want to go chasing ghosts again. And for some reason Jiraiya had convinced him that this time it wasn’t for nothing.

He glanced about, instincts kicking in to check the area. No one was paying him untoward attention. That was good. Granted, he didn’t look like he was out of place. He was quite unremarkable, save the scar that ran down over his left eye. That eye looked quite normal to the outside observer. Of course, it was anything but. Experimental technology created the illusion of movement. This occurred thanks to a set of electrodes connected directly to his optic nerves. It was not without pain, of course. 

The prosthetic implanted there served several functions. One of those functions was a sort of vision. It was a recording device as well. The entire set up came from the experimental division of the Uchiha’s Sharingan Corporation. Of course, with experimental technology, there were issues. If he activated it, it took a lot of effort to be able to use it. For this reason, he only activated it when he needed it. The rest of the time he either kept it inactive, and blind, or he covered it to reduce the amount of information it received.

That led to why he was here, he thought as he adjusted the gray suit jacket he was wearing. He felt exposed without his mask, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. He glanced at his wrists, making sure the jacket sleeve and dress shirt cuff covered the tattoos on his arms completely. Walking around public areas in London with a mask would be quite conspicuous, and so would showing off the near full body tattooing he had that marked him for what he was. He was walking by the giftshop when he spun on his heel and nearly skipped back. Well, that looked like… He grinned and tried to look casual as he went into the shop and spun the bookrack around. He pulled several books off and smiled as he put them down on the counter.

The shop girl looked at him. “Is that all today, sir?” she asked, blushing slightly.

“ _Hai_ , I mean, yes, I wasn’t expecting such reading material out in the open!” he said with a grin.

The girl’s tag read Marcy and she tried very hard not to look at the books she was checking out. They were four sealed books from the “adult” shelf. Generally, when she checked out this sort of thing, it was easy to tell the interest of the buyer. However, this guy… One of the books was about a heterosexual couple, which she’d actually read and it was super-hot, but the other three were different. One was a lesbian novel, another was a gay erotica, and the last one was…well, it was a whole lot of different stuff in one book.

“Well, that’s why they’re in plastic wrap,” she said as she rang him up. “So, you know, kids can’t look through them.

He handed over a credit card and Marcy blinked. It was completely black card with no imprinted name on it, but when she ran it, it didn’t pop a request for signature or PIN like normally. She frowned and started to say something, but she realized the guy had already pulled the seal off one of the books and was reading it with his other hand out for his card. She just handed it to him and watched him leave. She walked out to the door and watched. He was reading while he was walking, completely not looking where he was going, and not even coming close to bumping into anyone.

“Hey Marcy, what’s up?” her boyfriend Jesse said as he walked up to her.

“Just a guy who really likes to read porn,” she muttered and smiled at him. “Off in ten, so wait at the coffee shop!”

Kakashi was pleased. He hadn’t packed any of his manga. Granted, this didn’t offer the visuals, but it was still pretty good. The writing could have been better, but sometimes that was the fun of it. He stopped as he got to the curb and waved down a cab, eyes never leaving the pages.

“Where you headed?” the cab driver asked.

“Take me to a hotel, doesn’t matter which one,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand not holding his book.

The cabbie looked into the mirror and shook his head. Strange foreigners.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

“I’m not interested,” Sherlock said as he waved a hand at his brother.

“Sherlock, really, I just was hoping that you could…” Mycroft said with a groan.

“No!” he sniped and turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, leaving Mycroft in the living room with John.

“Would you speak to him?” Mycroft said. “I believe this is important to Her Majesty.

John arched a brow. “Yeah, I’ll try,” he said and shook his head. “No guarantees, though. You know how he gets. Here, give me the file.”

Mycroft nodded, handing the file to John. “Thank you, John, you’ve always been the reasonable of the pair of you, especially since he came back from his death. He has been rather incorrigible since then.”

John rolled his eyes and opened the file. He flipped through pages as Mycroft left. It was some sort of security alert of a person of interest crossing into the United Kingdom. It was a ping on a name that was considered a possible alias for a known Yakuza assassin. The photo that accompanied it showed a tall man with silver white hair and gray eyes. In the photo, he was smiling at a shop girl as he purchased some books.

“What dullness did he bring me?” Sherlock growled as he flopped into the seat next to John.

“This guy,” he said as he pushed the file toward him.

Sherlock looked at the photo. “A Japanese man with a fetish for explicit pornographic reading material. That is nothing terribly odd,” he said and rolled his eyes. “Why do they think he’s an assassin? He looks positively droll.”

John glanced at him. “Well, he came into the UK on a passport that was flagged. The name ‘Ryuu Hakuma’. Odd sounding name. Anyway, but they seem to think that this passport has been in the UK when there were other deaths that may be assassinations.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes yet again. “I do not play attack dog for my brother.”

“All he wants you to do is let him know if you come across anything,” John said with a sigh.

Sherlock’s phone beeped then with a text message. He nodded as he read and grinned. “At least a seven,” he said as he got up and disappeared into his room. He emerged dressed and was putting on his coat. “Well, John, come on, now! We have a corpse!”

John shook his head and grabbed his own jacket. “Of course we do,” he muttered as they headed down for a cab. Sherlock relayed the information to the cabbie and they arrived in a few moments. Sherlock got out and headed into the scene followed by John. It was a rather suburban looking house.

Lestrade was standing in the room and sighed when Sherlock came in. “I’m sorry to bother you, Sherlock, but this one is more than a little odd.”

Sherlock put a pair of gloves on and knelt at the body. It was a man in a business suit lying on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sherlock looked over the body and the area and then looked at Lestrade. “This looks like natural causes…” he said.

“It does. Until we get him back to the morgue. Then we find trace amounts of a rapidly degrading poison. This is the third one.” Lestrade stood up with a sigh and looked at him. “No idea how anyone got in or out, the house was locked, no open windows. So figured you love a locked room murder.”

“Were the others similar?” Sherlock asked with a frown.

“Yeah, one was in a high rise, and the other one was in an office. All three of them were businessmen, but they all worked for different London companies,” he said with a sigh as he glanced around the room.

“Can I see the photos of the other two?” Sherlock said and turned back.

Lestrade opened the file and handed Sherlock the two sheets on the others. “They don’t resemble each other. And they didn’t work in the same company. The only link is that they were most likely poisoned with the same thing?”

“Of course, they were assumed natural causes, but Molly got the last one in time to catch the poison before it was completely gone,” he said as he glanced at him.

“Perhaps my brother was right about that assassin.”

“Assassin?” Lestrade asked.

“Don’t bother, but keep this man’s death under wraps. Something is happening, and it won’t hurt to hold off the announcement of his death until I’ve looked into it further.”

Sherlock turned on his heel and left, John on his heels. “What was that?” John asked as they walked quickly out of the scene and he hailed a cab again.

They got into the cab. “You seem to be confounded.” John was worried because confused Sherlock worried him.

“I’ve never seen a crime scene so clean. I’ve never seen one that offered no clues for me to work with. An assassin is the only thing possible, right?” he asked, glancing at John.

John nodded. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

“I’m going to check with my underground network and you are going to work. Aren’t you on at the clinic today?” Sherlock asked with a frown.

“Ah, yes, but if you think…” he started.

“No, go do your real job. I’ll meet you at the flat in the morning. I should have found something out, I would think,” he said as he told the cab to stop and let him out. John watched him go with a curious look.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

John stretched as he stepped out of the clinic. It was almost midnight and he was exhausted. He frowned and thought a trip to the pub might be in order. Just a pint or two, of course. He walked down to the one closet to the clinic and had a couple by himself. A couple women hit on him, but he turned both of them down. His mind was elsewhere. Ever since he broke it off with Mary, he hadn’t really found himself interested in women. He was happy in the flat with Sherlock, and honestly, as mad as he was at him for the death hoax, he was happy he was back in his life. He put a tip down and headed out to the sidewalk to hail a cab.

The sensation of being stabbed with a syringe, as familiar as it was, was unexpected as he passed out into someone’s grip.

John’s first thought on waking up was his head was killing me. His next thought was he heard voices.

“Dr. Watson,” came a voice near him. He looked up and locked eyes with a man he definitely didn’t know. “Glad you decided to join the waking world.”

“Who…where am I, what’s going on?” John stammered, realizing his ankles were handcuffed to the legs of the chair he was in and his hands were handcuffed behind him.

The man in front of him spun a chair around and sat down. He was a man of medium height with long stringy black hair. He had a pair of beady looking dark eyes and he seemed to have some sort of ornamental eyeliner around his eyes. He smiled at him.

“I’m known as Orochimaru, Dr. Watson. And I find the fact that your companion is on my trail to be quite distressing. For that reason, you were abducted to keep Mr. Holmes in line,” he said with a smile morphing into a half sneer.

“On your trail? What does that mean? We don’t have a case right now other than the dead businessmen…but that’s you?” he said with a frown. “You killed them?”

“Oh, no, I don’t kill anyone personally,” he said and stood up with his hands tucked at the small of his back. “However, I did have them killed. The three of them were problems that needed to be eliminated. Terrible when you have customers that can’t keep their mouths shut, isn’t it? So because of one of them, I’m dodging a man sent to kill me.”

“Why is someone after you?” John asked.

Orochimaru smiled and turned toward him. “I stole some things from an old friend when I left Japan. They aren’t happy about it.”

“Stole some things?” John asked with a frown. “Like money?”

“Oh, much more valuable. Blood is thicker than water, as they say here, isn’t it? And what I took cannot ever be replaced,” he said with a smirk. “Of course, it is far more valuable to me than anything else, but for that reason, my old friend will do anything to get it back.”

“I don’t understand. I mean, I understand why you abducted me, that’s obvious. But I don’t understand why you’re going on about this.”

Orochimaru sighed. “You westerners,” he muttered. “Aizukotetsu-kai. Have you heard this word?” he asked as he began to roll the sleeve on his robe up. John’s eyes widened a bit.

“You’re Yakuza.”

Orochimaru nodded, revealing the extensive tattooing covering his arms. “Yes. The Aizukotetsu-kai is a federation of several…I think you’d say ‘families’ from Kyoto. I was raised from infancy to lead alongside two other orphans that were taken in by the Oyabun of the Konoha-gumi. There were three of us. We were jokingly called the three Sannin. We were the same age, raised together communally by the group. We grew up alongside several others our age, including the fourth man to become Oyabun, a gregarious and shrewd man named Minato Namikaze. I hated him. Our previous Oyabun, a man named Hiruzen Sarutobi, appointed him over me. I was infuriated that such a paltry and peace loving man would take Sarutobi-sama’s place. I questioned him repeatedly about the choice.”

He sighed; he took off the glove he wore on his right hand and John saw his two smallest fingers had been replaced with a prosthetic meant to hide that they were missing. “Questioning your elders is a poor decision but I could not help my anger. I wanted more. I wanted to be the Oyabun that took the Konoha-gumi to the point they eclipsed the three major yakuza families. Peace and a push for legitimacy meant that my methods were…disliked. Minato wanted to have a peaceful coexistence with the other families. Minato wanted to lie down at their feet like a dog. Sarutobi-sama had made me the second, and Jiraiya the first. Minato was only chosen because he had wed Kushina Uzamaki, the bitch child of one of the higher-ranking families. Because of this, he was considered a good choice. Political ideologies of peace and making friends won over. Between his family and hers, they had connections. I knew we could not coexist, and knew that eventually someone would come and destroy us. Peace, however, won out.”

He stood and smiled. “I tried to convince the others that it was a mistake, but we never agreed. One of us used to say we always had a three way gridlock. It was so true,” he said with a sigh. He paused. “So I did what anyone in my position would do. I assassinated Minato and Kushina, forcing Sarutobi-sama to return to the position of the family head. Of course, it orphaned their newborn, who annoyingly was taken in by my fellow Sannin Jariya, his godfather. I waited in the shadows then, biding my time. Then, circumstances led to my fellow Sannin uncovering the truth. They both turned on me, and I barely escaped with my life and a few of my loyal servants, and something precious.”

“Why are you telling me this? You sound like a villain from a novel monologuing,” John said and rolled his eyes.

Orochimaru smirked and turned back. “Well, Dr. John Watson, this information will come in handy in the coming days, and it will not be repeated. Because, Dr. John Watson, you won’t be leaving my service. Once you are involved in this, once you know what I have stolen, you cannot leave. If you did, I would not be the only one you would need to fear. The entire Yakuza would happily have you assassinated. It is too late, Dr. John Watson. You are mine now. Simply by being in this room,” he said and gestured to the small, plain room with no windows. “You have a death sentence on your head. The assassin was sent to kill me, anyone loyal to me, and retrieve what I stole from them.”

“What did you steal?” John asked.

Orochimaru glanced behind him. “Sasuke?”

From behind him, a younger man with black hair stepped out. He was wearing a robe like shirt and a pair of wide legged pants. He had glaring eyes. John flinched because he had not seen anyone in the room at all. Pinned to the chest of the shirt was a small, red rose.

“I don’t see why we don’t kill him,” Sasuke said. “He’s useless to us. A liability. I don’t understand why we don’t eliminate him like the others.”

“But Sasuke, he’s a doctor, remember?” Orochimaru said. “And didn’t you say my beloved pet was ill once again? This time worse than before?”

Sasuke wrinkled his nose. “Yes.”

“Good, then he is useful, _hai?_ ” he said as he turned to him.

Sasuke snorted. “Whatever. How are you going to make sure he doesn’t try to escape?”

“Well, the good doctor here won’t do that.”

John glared at him. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Aside from the fact you’re marked for death? Well, if that isn’t enough for you, Dr. John Watson, then I’ll show you the reason you will not even attempt to escape me,” Orochimaru said as a man John hadn’t seen or heard behind him unhooked his ankles but clipped the rings together, keeping his ankles bound to each other. He could shuffle walk, but that was about it. He looked back at the man who had brilliant red hair as he dragged him. John looked around as they came out of what must have been a small room and into a hallway.

There was a blonde man leaning against the wall. “Sasori, who’s the ugly Brit?”

“Deidara,” Sasori said with a smirk. “Be nice. He’s a doctor.”

The blond snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s ugly.”

Sasori shook his head and shoved John forward. Orochimaru led as the small group moved down the hallway. John looked around. It was some sort of old, large house. It didn’t look like a brownstone or row housing, in fact, it almost looked like some of the finer estate houses he’d seen. He saw at least four doors in this hallway so far and he could see the top of a stairwell at the end. The younger man with dark hair walked in front of them and punched in a code at the door. He stepped away to stand beside it. John flinched as the red haired man reached down and unlocked the handcuffs on his ankles, then the ones on his wrist.

John rubbed the sore skin on his wrists and followed Orochimaru into the room. He looked around and realized it was a very fine bedroom. He heard rather ragged breathing as he came into the room and he stepped around to see an obviously feverish young man lying in the bed. John moved without thought, the doctor’s instinct as it were taking over as he moved close to the boy and felt his face.

“And now Dr. John Watson realizes why he won’t try to escape, doesn’t he?” Orochimaru said with a rather haughty tone to his voice. “He has a patient.”

John turned and stared at Orochimaru. “I need a stocked doctor’s bag, an IV kit, saline, antibiotics, and possibly more once I have the tools to assess him. And get me something to cool him down. Now. Ice packs.”

“You aren’t in charge,” the red haired Sasori said as he glared at John.

“Look, I’m the doctor here. And I’m going to be a doctor and you people are damn well going to  provide me with the tools to do my job. So get me the tools I need. Now.” John’s voice had taken the hard edge that he rarely used.

Orochimaru smiled. “Sasori, get the doctor what he needs. I’ll leave you to it, Dr. John Watson,” he said and turned on his heel and left.

John sighed and sat down on the bed. It was covered in plush bedding and pillows. He got a look at the boy now. He was in his late teens, perhaps his early twenties. He was obviously of Asian descent, having the almond shaped eyes. His hair, though, was unusual because it was blonde and fine. He leaned close and opened one of his eyes and was equally surprised that he had blue eyes. He was completely unconscious, though. John reached and ran his fingers over thick scars that ran down each of his cheeks. They looked precise, though, as though someone had done it on purpose. They were old, though.

He checked his pulse, finding it high. He felt around his stomach and growled under his breath. He went to the door and pounded on it until the dark haired boy named Sasuke opened it.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I need equipment to run blood tests.”

“We don’t have any, figure out what’s wrong with him without it,” Sasuke said with a roll of his eyes.

John stared at him. “Look, I need to know for sure if he’s got what I think he’s got.”

“Not my problem. I’m to bring you any medication you need. I’m not your errand boy, _teme_.”

John looked back. The symptoms matched. If he was wrong… He didn’t think the treatment would do any harm. “Fine, I need anti-malarial meds. I’m pretty sure he has a Malaria infection. Hurry with it. And the rest I asked for,” John said as he turned and shut the door himself.

If he was right, it was Vivax, which was good and bad. It wasn’t the deadliest Malarial infection, however if he had his strains right, it was the one that could lay dormant in a person for years at a time before appearing. It was pretty prevalent in Asian countries, he thought.

He sat down on the bed and felt the boy’s head. He was burning up. He sighed and looked at the window. He frowned and got up to see what was outside. He found the windows were barred on the outside, and from where they were, all he could see was trees. He was also on the second floor. No help there, he thought to himself. He heard the boy mumble behind him and he turned back, grabbing a glass of water that was sitting on the beside.

“Hey, here, sit up and drink,” he said as he turned his head toward him.

His eyes fluttered and he winced and said something in Japanese that John had no clue about.

“I…I don’t speak Japanese,” John offered, guiding the glass to the boy’s chapped lips. He took it in shaking hands and tried to sip it but fell back when he’d gotten a small amount. He turned and stared at John.

“English?” he asked then.

“Yeah, English, sorry, all I speak is English,” John said apologetically.

“Who…” he started and then put his hand to his head with a grimace.

“My name’s John, I’m a doctor. I’m here to help you. You’re very sick,” he said with a gentle smile.

He nodded. “Happens now and then,” he muttered and turned on his side, gagging slightly as though his stomach was trying to void.

“Yeah, figured that was the case,” he muttered, sure now that he was right. “But I’m going to help you. I know what it is, and I can treat it.”

“Hmm, good, my head hurts so much…” he said and turned teary eyes on John. “ _Itai_ …”

John reached out and put a hand against his face. “I know. You’ve got a bit of meningitis right now, but I’m having them bring me something that should fix this for good. How long have you had episodes of this?”

He shook his head. “Since he took me from my home,” he said. “Four years, I think, I don’t know how long…time passes…I can’t mark it…” he muttered and pulled the covers up on him as he started to shiver. “Worse this time. Lasting longer…my head…”

“Do you remember being bitten by mosquitos or something before then?” John asked as he ran a hand over the boy’s sweaty forehead.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I…played outside a lot when I was a kid, always covered in bites, but never made me sick…just got sick one day after we left Japan,” he muttered as he shuddered. “I’m so cold now.”

John nodded. “Well, it sometimes takes a while before you get sick.”

The door opened and he saw Orochimaru standing there. “Sasuke says you believe he has malaria.”

John nodded. “Yes, his spleen is enlarged, quite a bit, and he’s showing symptoms of meningitis, so there’s some swelling on the brain, hence the headache he has.”

“He’s had episodes of this for the last few years. He’s never needed medical intervention before to recover from them.”

John rubbed his forehead. “Look, you asked me what was wrong with him. I am guessing here unless you’re going to let me send for blood work. I can’t tell for sure. This is my best guess according to his symptoms. And yes, there are times Malaria shows up and goes away, they’re called relapses. And this one could have been hanging around for years before his first round of sickness. However, this is a serious relapse, and he needs treatment now, especially for this fever.”

Orochimaru nodded. “I’ll send the equipment you need,” he said and turned and left.

John sighed and looked at the boy who had watched Orochimaru’s every move, he noted. He reached out and put a hand against his face. “I’m going to help you.”

He looked at John with a look that was somewhere between sadness and fear. “Then just let me die,” he whispered as he faded into a semi-conscious state again. John had no idea what to think as he stared at the boy.

He figured he should get a better look at him, though. He moved him to lie on his back and lifted his shirt. He noted that he was in a very fine set of silk pajamas, now that he wasn’t worried about him quite as much. He frowned as he realized there were bruises along his ribcage, most looked more than a week old, but they were obviously from being hit. He pressed on his upper stomach a bit, noting that the only swelling seemed to be his spleen. He rolled the band of the pants down a bit to check his lower stomach and realized that his hips were scratched and bruised. He frowned, pulling the right down to see there were deep gouges on the outside of his hips… Most the bruising was fading, more than a week, but John had a feeling that it coincided with him falling ill again.

His heart started to pound and he sat on the end of the bed and realized what was happening. Whoever this boy was, he was being abused, badly. He chewed on his lip for a moment. He’d called him his beloved pet. He couldn’t be more than twenty years old, and he said he’d been with this man for several years.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Sherlock arrived home to an empty flat. He thought that was strange, considering that John should have been there. He looked around the flat and sat down on the sofa in confusion. It was almost seven am. He worried immediately because John was nothing if not consistent and reliable.

“Where are you, John?” he muttered under his breath.

“If you knew that, you’d be there too,” a voice said behind him.

Sherlock turned and stared because there was a man in his flat. He was wearing a deep gray long sleeved shirt and pants with gloves. He had on shoes but they looked very soft. His lower jaw was covered with a gray mask and he had a bandana or something over his forehead with a weird leaf engraved into a metal plate. It sat crooked and covered his left eye, though. It left most of his face covered. He was just standing there with his hands in his pockets of a flak jacket that was an olive green color.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” he asked as he stood up. However, fear wasn’t a thing he felt, and perhaps he should have considering that the person in front of him had managed to get into his flat without a sound and walk up behind him.

“Kakashi Hatake,” he said with a slight bow. “Good to meet you, Sherlock Holmes.”

“You know me?” Sherlock said and narrowed his eyes.

“Science of deduction, fascinating, really,” he said and Sherlock thought he yawned, but he wasn’t sure under the mask.

“You are the assassin that my brother came to me about.”

Kakashi nodded. “Well, retired, but you know. Some cases bring out even those of us who have given up a life of subterfuge,” he said with a shrug.

Sherlock, dressed in his blue dressing gown and pajama pants walked up and looked at him. “Why are you here? You know where John is?”

“Suspect, but I don’t know,” Kakashi said and looked at Sherlock. “That’s why I came here. Figured you would want your doctor back, and I’m here to kill the man that has him.”

“Kill him? Did you kill those three men?” he asked as he walked past him into the kitchen.

Kakashi followed. “No, actually, the man I’m after did that. They made the mistake of not paying up when they were supposed to. You don’t stiff an ex-Yakuza on a drug deal. That’s a bad way to end,” he said as he picked up the skull on the fireplace and looked at it.

“You are ex-Yakuza as well,” Sherlock observed as he handed a cup of tea to his guest.

“ _Hai_ ,” he said as he nodded thanks to Sherlock as he took the cup. “It isn’t a very good job for longevity. Assassination is a dangerous game, but technically I’m still Yakuza, I never left the family,” he said as he smelled it. “Nice blend,” he said. “Jasmine Green with a hint of…mint.”

Sherlock sat down on the sofa and stared at him. “I find it disconcerting to speak to someone with his face covered completely.”

“I imagine, it hides most of the tells that your deductions depend on. Facial expressions might be masked, or they might be faked. Depends on the skill of the person wearing a mask. I find most are put off by only seeing one eye of a person, as well.”

“You speak impeccable English,” Sherlock observed.

“And I understand you speak rather impeccable Japanese, which will come in handy in our pursuits,” he said as he sat down in the chair next to the sofa.

“Our pursuits?” Sherlock asked.

Kakashi reached up and pulled the mask off his nose and mouth, revealing nearly nothing to Sherlock, other than he had a small mole on his lower left jaw. His lips were narrow and pale, and when he sipped the tea, Sherlock noted his teeth appeared in good condition.

“Of course. I know the man we are both pursuing. You know London. We are both looking to retrieve people he has abducted. Combining our work is the most efficient use of our abilities.”

Sherlock wanted to say something against that…but honestly, he couldn’t. He simply lifted his own teacup and nodded.


	2. Shadows on the Sun

 

Sherlock was impressed immediately with this Kakashi’s intelligence. Once he’d removed his mask and everything, Sherlock noted that his eye wasn’t real.

“You’ve got a prosthetic eye,” Sherlock noted the next morning as he watched the other man make himself tea.

“Yes,” he commented, sitting down and pulling a book out to start reading while he sipped tea. Sherlock blinked. It was a gay erotica novel. He blinked, looking away. He wasn’t very comfortable with sex, but this fellow seemed a tad open about it. “I had it replaced after a rival Yakuza Wakagashira went after my Shatagashira. In retrospect, allowing him to kill him would been better for everyone,” he muttered as he flipped to the next page in the book.

“Why is that?” Sherlock asked, glancing at him.

“Oh, because the man we’re pursuing is my ex Shatagashira. So if the rival had killed him, all this would be moot,” he commented with a shrug, flipping pages.

Sherlock nodded. “What is your plan?” he asked.

“Ah, I don’t know. Figured I would play it by ear, that’s how you Westerners say it, right?” he said, still not looking up. Sherlock was fascinated. The prosthetic moved.

“I was unaware that there was technology available to the degree of allowing a prosthetic eye to move like that,” Sherlock had gotten up and got his phone, where he was searching for anything to help with the situation.

“For someone who isn’t interested in finding an assassin, you certainly have an odd way of not only finding him, but inviting him for breakfast,” Sherlock heard from the doorway. He sighed and turned to glare at Mycroft.

“None of your business!” Sherlock growled and continued looking at his phone.

Mycroft stared at the other man. He waved thoughtlessly with his hand he was sipping tea with. “Good day,” he said, turning the page in a book. “Your brother really needs some groceries, by the way,” he said as he sighed. “But then with his doctor being missing, I’m certain that he will decline in self-care.”

Mycroft glared at Sherlock. “John is missing?”

“He disappeared yesterday after he left a pub. No clues, no one saw anything. Mr. Hatake here showed up last night to tell me that he is sure that the man he’s here to assassinate is the one who has him,” Sherlock said. “I had stumbled on some of his victims with Lestrade.”

Mycroft glared at him. “You have an assassin…”

Kakashi, who was wearing an a style undershirt and boxers, waved at him. “Yakuza assassin, thanks,” he said. “Retired, well, apparently not permanently retired,” he said as he kept reading his book. “Also, I only assassinate Yakuza targets. Not innocents.”

“What?” Mycroft said, now taking in the tattooing. His arms, legs, and chest were covered from wrist to ankle.

“Hmm, yes, I’m actually here to rescue the kidnapped son of our previous Oyabun. The man who I’m after killed the Oyabun and took his son as revenge toward the Wakagashira. He used to be the Shatagashira before he decided to turn on the Oyabun,” Kakashi said and yawned. “So I need to kill him and rescue the boy. I’ve only ever assassinated rogue Yakuza as a type of enforcing within our family.”

Sherlock picked up a file and handed it to Mycroft. “I’ve confirmed what he says,” he said as he went to go grab his coat and scarf. “Are you getting dressed or not?” he asked with exasperation. “We need to be out there looking for John!”

Kakashi shrugged. “Just a minute, I’m at the good part. I can’t stop reading in the middle of a good scene,” he muttered, standing and walking toward the sofa with his book in front of his eyes. With one hand he started putting on his clothes, a wrap style shirt, shifting the book between hands when he did so, of course, and then his mask and head covering. He shut the book and sighed, looking wistful before he slipped his pants and shoes on and grabbed the flak jacket. “Alright, I’ll read a bit more on the way,” he said.

“Do you think reading pornographic books while on the search for kidnapped people is the best idea?” Sherlock asked with a sigh.

“Well, yes,” Kakashi said and smirked under the mask. “Besides, never know when you’re going to need a good book.”

He walked right by Mycroft and smirked. “Good day, British Government. Hail the Queen and all,” he said and jogged down the steps.

Mycroft looked at Sherlock who shrugged. He followed him out and they hailed a cab. They were soon in the underbelly of London, and Sherlock noted that the other man had little concern. They spoke to a few people and then got someone that made a comment about seeing a man with brilliant red hair dragging a body.

“Red, you say?” Kakashi said, not looking up as he flipped the page on the book. “Show me where you saw him.”

The homeless man led them to an alley. Sherlock and Kakashi both walked about, Kakashi finally putting his book in his back pocket. He knelt and looked at the ground. “Drag marks, most likely from your doctor,” he said. “Roses…” he muttered.

Sherlock glanced at him. “Red?”

“Hai, something…peonies.”

Sherlock nodded, looking where he was looking. He smelled it too. Peonies. And there was a sliver of red in the crease of the building and the ground. “Not real, though, synthetic,” Sherlock commented as he stood up. “Perfume?”

“Yes, Sasori, no doubt. He wears peony scented perfume for his partner. He likes peony scented things…” Kakashi muttered. “Red hair matches. So now we know who kidnapped him. Well, I think it might have been two, though,” he said and picked up the sliver of a red rose.

Sherlock looked at it and then him. “The significance of a red rose has meaning to you.”

Kakashi nodded. “One of the people that disappeared with him was known for wearing a red rose boutonniere at all times. However, for him to so carelessly leave this…” he muttered as he stood.

“You believe perhaps this person might not be loyal to the man you’re after?” Sherlock said as he looked toward where the drag marks ended at the other side of the alley. “Car was here,” he muttered.

“Van, by the pattern of the treads,” Kakashi said and sighed. “White,” he muttered.

Sherlock looked over. “Knicked the dumpster…” he said as he looked at him. “You are incredibly observant,” he muttered.

“Have to be in my line of work,” Kakashi said and yawned, reaching his arms over his head. “Trail goes cold here, there’s no way to follow on the main road.”

Sherlock nodded. “So what…” he started.

“Dinner.”

Sherlock blinked as he wandered back down the alley with his hands in his pockets. He paused when Sherlock didn’t follow. “Well, come along, we can discuss over food. I’m starved.”

Sherlock shook his head and followed with a swish of his coat. A little while later, they sat in an Italian place with the assassin on the other side of the table, still reading his book. He put it down as food arrived.

“Ah, lovely,” Kakashi said and looked over at the detective across from him. “Tell me, this John of yours is a good man, huh? A doctor?” he asked as he started picking at some of the food on his plate, noting Sherlock didn’t order much more than a plate of ravioli.

“Uh, oh, yes, he is a good man. He is an ex-army doctor. He keeps me right,” Sherlock said, picking at his own food. “He recently broke up with his girlfriend, though. They met while I was gone, in a state of assumed dead,” he said with a sigh.

“Indeed, I read about that,” Kakashi said and smiled at him. Of course, they were in public now, so he’d removed his facemask. He kept the headband he covered his eye with.

“Why do you do this mission if you are retired?” Sherlock asked finally.

“Loyalty?” Kakashi said in an inquiring tone. “No, a promise I made to the boy’s godfather.”

“You call him a boy, how old is he? I should know if we’re looking for a child,” Sherlock said curiously.

“Oh, I call him that, but he’s twenty three,” he said and sighed. “He was a student of mine for a while, I feel responsible…” he muttered and looked away from Sherlock.

“There’s more to it than that,” Sherlock observed.

Kakashi looked at him with narrowed eyes. “There’s more to your friendship with your doctor than flat mates, too,” he commented.

Sherlock blinked and looked at him, realizing that this man was quite a bit more observant than he had at first gave him credit for. “I need to know that you’ll be clear headed about it,” Sherlock said as he leaned back and crossed his arms, glaring at the other man.

Kakashi gave him a glance. “It is of no concern.”

Sherlock figured he’d leave it at that. He managed to keep his curiosity at bay for the next three weeks as they searched every corner of London it seemed. Three weeks of finding nothing. However, both of them weren’t about to give up on their mission, even if daily calls to the morgues and hospitals became something they alternated doing between each other.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Two weeks of constant attention from John and appropriate medications had brought the boy to near health again. John had managed to get the equipment to test his blood, and watched with happiness as the numbers of concentration of malaria steadily decreased. He was still very lethargic, and slept most the day, but it had been a serious relapse. John had been moved into the room with him. There was an attached bathroom and meals were brought three times a day by the red haired man named Sasori or the terse black haired Sasuke. He noted that the red haired man smelled of peonies. He shook the thought away, obviously Sherlock had been wearing off on him. A few times, he’d noted that when Sasuke was wearing a suit jacket, he kept a red rose in the button. He eventually overheard them talking to each other and referred to the blonde boy as Naruto.

Naruto spoke little, even when John tried to engage him in conversation. He worried on that, seeing that he was doing physically better, but John felt that the boy’s life was not going to improve after just having the malarial infection cleared up. At the end of the first two weeks, he was mostly well. He was eating, and he had stopped complaining of his head hurting so much. Then, John would find out why he’d asked to die.

John was sitting on the cot he’d been given, just staring at the ceiling when the door opened. Sasuke and Sasori were both there.

“Come on, both you,” Sasuke growled out.

Naruto looked at him from the bed and started to say something when the red haired one moved over and grabbed him by the neck of the pajamas he was wearing, dragging him out of the bed. John jumped up and looked between them.

“Come on, your master calls,” Sasori muttered as he led the stumbling boy down the hall.

“He’s not completely well yet, he should stay in bed another week!” John said in protest but found that Sasuke was dragging him by the arm as well.

“Quiet.” Sasuke didn’t even look at him as he spoke.

They were led down the hallway to a large open living area. Sasori tossed Naruto into the room, where he stumbled and fell to his knees, panting for breath. Sasuke threw John into the room and closed the door. Sasori stood one side of the door they came in, and Sasuke on the other, both crossing their arms.

Naruto stayed on his knees and John went over to check on him. “Hey, you alright?” he asked and felt his face. No fever, so that was good. He looked up and saw that Orochimaru was standing near the windows looking out into a forested looking area. They were still on the second floor, but the windows here looked out on a more open area than the room they slept in. Naruto nodded. “Couldn’t last…” he said as he looked up at him.

“Ah, Dr. John, it seems you’ve been successful in treating my beloved pet,” he said with a smile. “So it is that you are going to be his permanent…caretaker. I’m sure Sasuke and Sasori there will be glad to have one less duty. He does require attention quite often,” he said as he turned back. John saw that he was wearing a three piece suit today and pristine. “You’ll have him and yourself dressed by seven tonight, I’ll have clothes placed in your room. Make certain he wears exactly what I leave on his bed. If there is anything missing, I will take it out on him, Dr. John, not you. I certainly can’t risk injury now that  have a doctor on hand. Take them back so they can get ready.”

They were taken back and as promised, clothes were laid out on both beds. John looked over his first, a plain black suit with a white shirt but no tie. Naruto’s clothes were also laid out, including underwear that looked more like women’s than men’s. This only confirmed his suspicion that the boy was used by him. Naruto sighed.

“Help me shower?” he asked. “Be mad…if I don’t…” he said, still obviously exhausted.

John nodded, helping him into the shower. It turned into a mutual shower, though, because Naruto’s energy was flagging easily, so he was in need of help standing and washing. He was significantly thin after his illness, and John knew he would have to request some high protein foods for him, or some nutritional shakes. He helped him dry off, toweling his long blond hair. It fell down past his shoulders. He had John help him into the underclothes, then the silky feeling pants that were wide at the bottom and almost looked like a dress. He helped him with the wrap style shirt that was covered with cherry blossoms.

“Hair, brush is in the bathroom. He’ll want it up,” Naruto said with a sigh.

John came back with a brush and tie he’d found in the bathroom. “Um, how?”

“Back, just up, don’t care how, he likes it that way,” he said sleepily. “Don’t know how I’m going to stay awake for this…probably better that way,” he said as he yawned.

John managed to pull his hair back in a loose ponytail. Naruto glanced at the clock on the desk. “No time for the rest, he’ll have to live without me doing the makeup…” he said. “I just can’t tonight,” he said and sighed again.

John had dressed and knelt in front of him. “Naruto, that’s your name, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s going on?” John asked with a frown.

“Smile for the camera,” he said and nearly passed out. John barely caught him as he tipped forward.

“What does that mean?” John asked.

Naruto opened his mouth to speak again but the door opened and John saw that Orochimaru was still in the black suit. “Come, time to make an appearance, like a good pet.”

John helped him stand up. Orochimaru looked at him. “You didn’t do your face tonight,” he commented.

“Can’t,” Naruto said and looked at him as he tried to keep his feet. “Sorry.”

“You’ll be punished for that,” Orochimaru said. He glanced at John. “Help him. Do not interfere. And do not speak. Or he will pay the price,” he said and turned on his heel.

John held him by the arm as they tried to keep pace as Orochimaru led him down the stairs. John had to catch him more than once, and that in itself bothered him. He had no idea what was happening, but it seemed to be something that Naruto was familiar with. They came to a large set of double doors which Orochimaru opened rather expressively. Inside, there was a large dining table. Around the table, there were several people sitting, some looking nervous, others looking sad. Just what the hell was this?

“Sit him there,” Orochimaru snapped at John. John helped the blond into the seat next to Orochimaru and took the one on the other side of him.

“So, my pet is feeling better again,” Orochimaru said as he sat down. John recognized the red-haired man, Sasori, and the blonde he had spoken to. The dark-haired boy was sitting there staring off to the side. There were three younger people, though, seated on the other side of Orochimaru. As soon as Naruto came into the room his eyes went to them. John saw they were two boys and a girl, perhaps sixteen or so years old by the look. All three of them stared at Naruto as he heaved deep breaths from the sheer exhaustion of being up and around like this.

“Dr. John, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine,” Orochimaru said with a smile. “This is Konohamaru Sarutobi.” He gestured to the boy with short spiked brown hair and dark eyes. “And this lovely young lady is Moegi Sarutobi, Konohamaru’s adopted sister.” He pointed to the girl with reddish brown pigtails and downcast eyes. “And their last adopted brother, Udon Sarutobi. You see, as I told you, my Sannin friends and I were raised by the clan. These three were as well. However, Konohamaru is the Oyabun’s biological grandson. This is the reason that he does not move on me, Dr. Watson, as I’m sure you were wondering. It is also the reason that my dear pet behaves so well.”

He turned and frowned. “Sasuke, you didn’t put his collar back on…”

Sasuke looked up and rolled his eyes expressively as he got up and left for a moment, coming back with a thick black metal collar that he snapped around the blonde’s neck. Naruto flinched, and John had no idea what he was going to do with this situation. He was a doctor, how was he supposed to sit here and ignore what was happening?

The rest of the mealtime went quietly, and John noted that Naruto wasn’t able to eat much yet. Orochimaru glanced at him and over to John. “So, Dr. John. I understand that your flat-mate has yet to stop his inquires. I’m afraid that it will not do for him to continue doing this. We’ll have to give a little demonstration of why he needs to stop.”

Konohamaru looked up with frightened eyes. “Please don’t hurt Nii-san again! He’s still sick!” he gasped out.

John saw the tilt of Orochimaru’s head and his slight smirk. Before he could react, Orochimaru reached out and snatched Naruto by the back his hair and slammed his face down into the table between the plates. John flinched because he heard the crack and involuntary whimper. When he dragged his head back up, blood was pouring from his nose.

“Did you say something, Konohamaru?” Orochimaru asked the boy who was now sitting there with tears running down his cheeks.

“N-no,” he whispered and looked down again.

“I didn’t think so,” Orochimaru said and yanked backwards on Naruto’s head, sending him tumbling to the floor.

John didn’t think, he just moved. He dropped to the floor beside him and picked up his face. Naruto shook his head. “Why?” he whispered.

John flinched as he felt someone grab him by the back of his jacket and drag him backward. Orochimaru looked at him. “Dr. John. I told you not to interfere. Now I have to hurt him more than I intended to hurt him. This is entirely your fault, Doctor. Please remember that.”

“Stop, I’m sorry, look, hit me, whatever, leave him alone!” John begged as he was dragged by the red-haired man into the next room while Orochimaru pulled Naruto stumbling behind him by a ring in the collar he’d put on him.

“I’m afraid that’s not how it works. You see, I told you before that I came here to escape my death at the hands of the Konaha-gumi. I took several things of value. One of them was the child of the Oyabun that I assassinated. Another was the grandchild of the current Oyabun. I have a few others, and as Naruto knows so well, I have no qualms about killing them, huh, pet?” he said with a smirk as he shoved him to his knees.

When Naruto didn’t answer, he went around and backhanded him. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, yes,” he panted, looking up at him. “Yes, Orochimaru-sama.”

“That’s better,” he muttered. “Bring in the brats.”

The blonde Deidara brought the three teens into the room and stood them along the wall.

John was still being held by Sasori who didn’t speak at all. Orochimaru looked at Sasuke. “Camera, please.”

Sasuke grabbed a video camera from a table and turned it on Orochimaru.

“Good day. Time for your update, Oyabun. I told you they live, so yet again, here you are.” Sasuke turned the camera on the three youths. “Now, Konohamaru, please tell your grandfather the date and time,” he said. The brunette recited the information nervously, glancing over at where Naruto was kneeling on the floor, still panting from the exertion. After he was done, Orochimaru moved beside the younger boy and put an arm around his shoulder.

“Your grandson can be quite mouthy, Oyabun. You really should have taught him better. But as promised, I’ve not harmed a single hair on his precious head. As per our agreement. Still, I find it so cruel of you to allow me to torture Minato’s child in exchange for your grandson’s safety. Truly a ruthless man, you are, Sarutobi. Have you informed Jiraiya of it? That you are permitting his godson to be used as a whipping boy for your brat of a grandson? I’m sure he would find that interesting,” Orochimaru muttered. “However, it seems that Jariya has sent Kakashi Hatake after me. This will not do. You will recall him immediately, or our agreement might fall through. You don’t want me to cut your grandson’s throat, do you? Like Ebisu.” At the name, John heard a sharp intake of breath from Naruto.

“Ah, poor pet,” Orochimaru said, moving in front of Naruto and staring down at him. Sasuke followed him with the camera. “Your fault he died. You weren’t fast enough to save him. I told you, if you could get to him, I’d spare him. But you weren’t good enough. Some assassin. You’d never have amounted to anything even if I hadn’t taken you from Jiraiya. Slow. Stupid. And talentless. You thought you could take your father’s place,” he muttered and moved to knee him in the face, sending him falling backward. John noticed that he scrambled to sit back up as quickly as he could. “How many is it I gave you the chance to save now?”

Naruto didn’t speak for a moment. Sasuke shoved him forward with his foot. “Speak, dog.”

“F-five,” he finally said, looking down at the floor where blood was still dripping from his nose and mouth.

“Five. Five people I gave you a chance to save, yet you couldn’t do it, could you?” Orochimaru said, smiling into the camera. “You see, Oyabun, he’s worthless anyway. Why you believed he could possibly follow in Minato’s footsteps I don’t know. He’s failed five times. Disgusting dog,” he muttered as he slammed the heel of his hand into Naruto’s head. He teetered forward a bit. “Five people. Your fault. All you had to do was save them. Who should I let you kill next? Which one? Perhaps…perhaps your doctor? What do you think of that?”

Naruto couldn’t hold back the sob in his throat. John was watching, horrified. Orochimaru smiled at the camera again. “Yes, Ebisu. Rin Nohara. She was such a good nanny for so long until you let her die. Neji Hyūga, goodness, that one was terrible. Sweet little cousin of his cried for hours, didn’t she?” he muttered as he walked around him. “I could offer to let you save her next, what do you think?” he asked. Naruto still didn’t speak. “It is really an easy thing. Save them, and they go free. And you can’t even do that, can you?”

John saw that the boy was shaking. He couldn’t do anything, though, Sasori had his arms pinned behind his back. “Yes, they couldn’t stop us from taking them, and you can’t even free them. I give you so many chances, Naruto. So many.”

Orochimaru turned and smiled at the camera again. “Oyabun, tell Jiraiya, please, that his godson is good for very little. However, he does make a better whore than any of the women he claims to have bedded.”

John saw that the three teens were trying not to watch as Orochimaru reached down and grabbed him by the hair and pulled Naruto to his feet. He twisted his head back and smiled at him. “Now, I do believe I have a little bit of punishment for your recent transgressions, pet,” he muttered as he yanked him down to the floor again, this time using his foot to slam his face into it. John flinched as he heard him stifle a yelp.

“Bring him to me once you clean him up,” Orochimaru said and turned and swept out of the room. Sasori let go of John and he took off to him.

“Here,” Sasuke said and shoved the first aid bag into his hands. “Clean him up.”

John looked up at him and back at the boy who was lying still on the floor, heaving deep breaths. John took the disinfectant and started cleaning his face. A few seconds later a robe was dropped to the floor beside him.

“Put him in this,” Sasuke said and went and pulled the three teenagers out of the room.

“Can you sit up?” John asked.

“Yeah,” he said quietly as John helped him to sit up on his knees. “Damn, I didn’t miss that…” he muttered, reaching up and touching his swollen nose.

“What is he doing?” John asked quietly as he cleaned the blood off his face and neck.

“Proving a point,” Naruto said quietly. “It’s all leverage. The kids are leverage over me, I’m leverage over Jiraya, and all of us are leverage over the Oyabun.”

John helped him out of the wrap shit and cleaned off the blood that had dropped down his chest. “He gives me a chance. Tells me if I can get to them in time, he won’t kill them. I don’t ever do it. I can’t win. He makes sure of it. And then he kills one of them in front of me. If I could be faster, or if I were stronger…I could save them,” he whispered. “Five so far. He has three more prisoners besides the Oyabun’s kids. He…he’ll kill one again soon if I don’t do what he says.”

“Who are these prisoners?” he asked.

“Mostly people he’s captured in the last few years, I didn’t even know the last two, one was English, the other was French. Some he brought with him, like Neji and Rin,” he said as his eyes watered.

John finished cleaning his face and chest and he stood up shakily. He wrapped the robe around him and slipped the pants he was wearing off, dropping them to the floor as he wobbled. Sasuke came back and grabbed him by a ring on the collar and yanked him away out the door. Sasori came and drug John away a few minutes later, putting him in the room where he and Naruto had been for the last two weeks. Eventually he fell asleep.

John woke with a start when the door slammed and he heard soft sobbing in the room. He blinked, flicking on the lamp and went around. He stared for a minute before he kneeled and pulled Naruto’s face up. “Come on, to the bath,” he said as he helped him to his feet. He drew the bath and got him into it, ignoring the pink tinge to the water.

“Can’t I just drown?” he asked softly. “Then he can’t use me against my godfather…”

John shook his head, wiping away the blood and tears from his face. “Don’t say those things. He wouldn’t want you to die.”

Naruto looked at him. “But it would be better for everyone if I did.”

John shook his head. “I’ll help, okay? My mate, Sherlock, he’s out there, and he’s going to find us.”

“He won’t,” Naruto whispered.

The broken sound to his voice broke John’s heart more than he wanted it to.


	3. Shadows of the Past

Chapter Three

 

[October 10th, 2010]

“Kakashi-Sensei!”

Kakashi sighed and saw the younger teen come running toward him. He didn’t feel like dealing with the brat today. He groaned inwardly and turned and watched him run up.

“Sensei! Are you going tonight to my birthday tonight?” he asked with a bright smile.

Kakashi smiled. He couldn’t resist the brat. He reached out and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, this is the big one, seventeen, huh?” he said with a smile.

“I’ll be a man!” he said proudly, trying to stand up his full five foot five inches in height. Kakashi had to smile. He swore the boy was never going to grow any taller.

“That’s what you think it is?” Kakashi asked, arching his one visible brow.

“Well, yeah! I get my first tattoo tonight! Oyabun is going to do it!” he said with a grin.

Kakashi smiled. “You know it hurts, right? They hand poke them.”

Naruto nodded, his ever-mussed blonde hair falling in his eyes. “I know! But Sakura and Sasuke said if I cry out that they’re going to going to tease me so I have to make sure I don’t. Sasuke didn’t! Sakura said the worst was after Oyabun was done…”

Kakashi had been training the three of them, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzamaki, and Sakura Haruno since they were all about twelve years old. All the young ones in the Family who showed aptitude for positions were trained by older teens until they reached seventeen. Then, at seventeen, they would train students five years their junior. This year was an important one for Kakashi because he was watching his group move on. Naruto was the youngest of the group, his birthday coming last in the year. On the first of January, they would “graduate” and become Sensei themselves. The groups, or teams, would compete against each other during their five years of training. Kakashi was looking forward to finally being able to go on missions rather than just stay at the compound training the brats. He and Iruka were to be partners once they left to do actual work for the family.

At seventeen, members of the Konoha-gumi got their first set of tattoos. They were across the back of the shoulders, and took almost four hours to do. Some passed out from the pain and were released from their position as an active member, but those with the fortitude to make it through the whole process would go on to become Sensei to the younger students. Naruto had always had lofty goals, one of which was to become Oyabun one day. Everyone humored him, but no one thought it would ever happen. The boy was simply too klutzy, and had little to no impulse control. Sasuke had less lofty goals, as he was following his brother into their family business, a Yakuza front for a lot of things, the Sharingan Corporation. Sakura was going to study under the Saiko-Komon, Tsunade, and help with the administrative branch of the family. Out of all of them, he worried most for Naruto. He feared for his life in the world they lived. Not to mention the act that the stupid brat had made Kakashi’s heart feel happy, which after losing his family, he had thought impossible.

As the evening fell, he wandered to the building where everyone had gathered for his birthday. Considering Naruto’s father had been an Oyabun, it was no surprise that the boy wanted to become one. He smiled as Naruto’s godfather, and the Family Wakagashira, or first lieutenant, helped him remove the yukata he was wearing so he could lay over the table for the tattoos to be applied. Kakashi leaned back against a pole and watched as he was cheered by some of his fellows, in particular the Oyabun’s grandkids. To Oyabun’s annoyance, his blood grandson, Konohamaru, thought Naruto was the most amazing person ever and tried to do everything he did, including getting in endless trouble. Naruto liked to pull pranks, and more than once had ended up getting caned for it. Not that the punishment stopped him. Kakashi never mentioned it, but he worried that the boy was going to lose fingers before he was twenty due to his constant beligerance.

“Seventeen,” he heard and glanced to see the Shatagashira, or the second lieutenant, of the family, Orochimaru watching with an amused smile. “Think he’ll cry out?”

“I don’t believe so,” Kakashi said. “That boy is stubborn.”

“He is his father’s son,” Orochimaru said, and Kakashi glanced at him. The tone of his voice was odd.

“Yeah, looks just like him too,” he said with a shake of his head. “I think with some work, he could exceed him in skill. Precocious brat that he is.”

Orochimaru nodded. “Possibly.”

“I’m sure Oyabun will want him to be his successor,” another voice said. Kakashi looked to see Iruka standing nearby.

“Well, I mean, it would keep the peace between Konoha-gumi and the Uzamaki-kai,” Kakashi said with a sigh. “After Kushina’s death, I’m surprised that they didn’t move on us.”

Orochimaru made a sound of some sort. “The brat does not have skills to lead this family any more than his fool of his father had.”

Kakashi glared at him. “I don’t understand why you had such an issue with Minato. He just wanted to keep everyone safe.”

“That is impossible. He was weak and showed it,” he said and shook his head.

By the time the evening was over, Naruto came running to Kakashi with a grin. His face was flushed and he’d bitten his lips raw. He turned and smiled. “Look!”

Kakashi nodded and smiled, seeing the first of his tattoos spreading over his shoulders. “Oyabun put a demon fox in it for you, nine tails, he’s got high expectations…”

“He did?” Naruto said and turned around. “Wow…”

Often, tailed beasts were integrated into their tattoos, as well as various Kami, but it seemed the Oyabun had decided to use Naruto’s first tattoo to start a massive back piece with the large demon fox at the top. He had actually done more on the boy than on most the others, he realized. The tails reached up and rested on Naruto’s left shoulder and spread downward, and the front paws came down just below his right shoulder blade. Of course, all around the fox, intricate details of plants, small Kami, and other things were done. He realized he was starting to look a bit pale.

“Oh, hey, come here,” Kakashi said and took his arm. “You should go in while the others drink by the fire,” he said and led him back toward the house.

Naruto nodded, going with him. Kakashi knew the look. He was going to pass out flat if he didn’t get sat down, and knowing Naruto, he wouldn’t while he was around his friends. He steered him into his room and sat him on the bed. He went to leave but felt Naruto grab his hand. He turned back and looked at him.

“You okay, Naruto-kun?” he asked, frowning.

“Stay,” he said and looked away immediately, putting his other hand to his mouth. “Never mind.”

Kakashi tilted his head and knelt in front of him. “What is it?”

When he looked up, Kakashi saw a deep blush staining his cheeks. “Sensei…”

“I’m not your sensei anymore, remember? You’re seventeen now,” he said, his own heart beating in his ears.

“K-Kakashi…” he whispered. “I…want…you to stay.”

“I don’t understand,” Kakashi said. He thought he knew what he meant but he in no way wanted to misinterpret this. The boy was an adult now. The boy could make his own choices from here on out.

The thing was, over the last few months, Kakashi had been having issues with his student. He kept doing things to seemingly entice him. Naruto would take every opportunity to touch or do something to tease him. He’d even taken to making dirty sounding comments around him. More than once Kakashi had punished me, perhaps overly so, in retaliation for making comments that were laced with innuendo, or asking too many questions about Kakashi’s reading. And now this, asking him to stay in his bedroom.

Before he could react, the boy let go of his hand and leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He looked surprised he’d done it and then sat back again. His cheeks were even redder, now, the blush spreading up to his ears.

“I like Sensei…I want Sensei to be the first one to take me…” he said and cut his eyes up at Kakashi with a look that sent all of Kakashi’s blood to his cock.

“Ah, Naruto…I…” he stammered. “I can’t…I mean…I don’t…”

Naruto’s face fell. “Oh. I’m…I’m sorry. I…I thought…you never go out with the girls…I thought maybe…”

Kakashi swallowed and shook his head. “Um, no, I like boys…well, boys and girls, actually…I just…you’re too young for me to even think about like that…” he started.

“I’m seventeen!” Naruto said, frowning. “I’m old enough to die for Oyabun! So I’m old enough to decide this!”

Kakashi realized that he had grown up a lot in the last five years. A lot more than he gave him credit for. His heart clenched because of course he’d fallen in love with that vibrant boy from the first moment he saw him the first day when he was twelve years old, as embarrassing as that was to admit. To be seventeen and in love with a twelve-year-old… At that time, of course, it was love. He wanted to be around him, wanted to help him. It wasn’t anything perverse or sexual. He simply loved him with all his heart and wanted nothing but the best for him. As time moved on, and he watched the child grow into a man, he was amazed by him again and again. It wasn’t unusual for sensei to take their students to their beds, no matter their age, but Kakashi, even when prodded by some of the others, refused such a thing.

“Naruto, I…you know this cannot go anywhere. I leave in January for my first missions for Oyabun, I can’t…”

“I don’t expect a relationship,” he said and looked away. “I know…I know I’m too young for that. That’s not what I want. I know you’ll leave, and I’ll stay here, teaching the new ones in January. I know that, but…I have loved Sensei since the first day I met you when I was twelve years old. I used to…tell Jiraiya that I loved you, and he would tell me that it was silly, that I was a boy, and I should be chasing girls. But I only liked Sensei. He…he realized it wasn’t going to change, and he said…he said I had to wait until I was an adult, after my first tattoos made me a full Yakuza, a man, and worthy. Then…he said I could ask Sensei to be my first. So…he knows already what I am doing.”

Kakashi didn’t know what to say. “Naruto, I’m five years older than you. It isn’t appropriate…”

“My mother was ten years younger than my father!” he said and looked at him. “It didn’t matter to them! And she was barely eighteen when I was born! So, if I want to have Sensei take me the day I become a man, then I should be allowed to ask it!”

Kakashi didn’t know what to do. He nodded. “Um, I…Naruto…w-wait here,” he said. “I’ll be back. I need to…to…”

He got up and headed for the door to find the tall, white haired Jiraiya standing there with his arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. Kakashi stared at him.

“Wakagashira! Gomen! I didn’t…I mean…I wasn’t…” he stammered.

“Kakashi-san…” he said with a sigh and looked over where Naruto sat, his head down and he could already hear him sniffing. “Where is your heart, Kakashi Hatake?”

Kakashi stared. “What?”

“My godson has laid himself open, now it is for you to answer him,” he said simply. “I hope I have not erred when I encouraged him to pursue his interest. I generally have a good idea of people, and I believed you might return his interest from what I’ve heard from others.”

“But…he’s…and you’re…” Kakashi said looking between the boy’s bowed head. “From others?” Kakashi was going to kill Iruka. He was really going to kill him if he had been telling people that he often would talk about Naruto when he was drunk on sake…

“If before you sat a young man, of seventeen years, that professed his love and devotion to you that was not a child of a Oyabun past, and the godson of a Wakagashira, would you leave this room?” Jiraiya asked with a soft smile. “Kakashi, if you have no interest, that is fine, he must learn to deal with rejection of this type as well as others. However, if you have interest, and reciprocate his feelings at all, and all that stays your hand is his relation to me and Minato…” Jiraya smirked. “I understand you are rather truthful under the influence of enough sake…”

Kakashi stared at Jiraiya in shock. He licked his lips and swallowed. He was definitely going to kill Iruka now. In his sleep. With twelve kunei knives. “I…never…”

“Just go,” Naruto said as he stood and walked away toward the window, arms crossed over his chest. “If you do not feel as I do, then leave me,” he whispered and Kakashi thought his heart was going to break a little.

“That’s not it,” Kakashi said. “I just…I never thought of…reaching things that were out of my reach,” he said finally, running a hand over his platinum hair. He jumped a bit because he heard the door close behind him. He saw Jiraiya had left. He swallowed hard and stepped forward, carefully putting his hands on the blonde’s shoulders.

“Don’t stay if you don’t want to,” Naruto said. “D-don’t stay because he said those things. I just…I thought…”

Kakashi sighed and turned him to face him, looking down into tear stained cheeks and wide blue eyes. “Don’t cry,” Kakashi said. “I think that we should take this slowly, I mean…”

He didn’t finish the thought because the brat had managed to slip his hand down the front of Kakashi’s pants and grab his cock. “Hah!” he explained stepping back and removing his hand.

“Okay, look, Naruto…” Kakashi began. He was going to put this off just be sure.

Then, though, he looked to see Naruto had dropped the hakama he’d been wearing down his hips and stood there completely naked and obviously aroused. He blinked those bright blue eyes and Kakashi’s heart seemed to melt. He was going to be strong, though. Then the whole idea of waiting flew out the window.

“I want Kakashi-sensei to fuck me,” he said with wide eyes as he began to stroke himself. “I prepared for Kakashi-sensei already.” He moved toward Kakashi and began sucking on his own fingers and cutting his eyes up at him. He pulled his fingers out and licked the tips one by one, maintaining eye contact with Kakashi the entire time. “I don’t know if it was enough because Kakashi sensei is big.”

Kakashi growled and grabbed Naruto by the arms and flung him down on his stomach over the side of the bed. “You want me to do this?” he said with a gruff voice. “Fine,” he growled and kicked Naruto’s legs apart. He slipped his middle finger into him, receiving a groan in response. He smirked. The little fucking minx, he was lubed already. When the hell had he done that? It had to have been before the ceremony.

“You want this?” he asked again, slipping another finger into the tight heat of his body. He was lubed, but not well stretched. It wasn’t like he would have found much help in the magazines that Kakashi had found were missing. Now he understood where they’d gone. He bet he’d find them under the brat’s bed.

“Ah, please, I want to feel Sensei inside me,” he gasped out and pressed his ass backward against Kakashi’s hand.

For someone that had been intent on waiting and taking it slow, Kakashi found himself biting his lip as he worked the muscles loose. He wasn’t going to hurt him, he couldn’t. It didn’t take as long as he expected and he smirked, pausing. He leaned over carefully to keep any pressure off his fresh tattoos.

“You’ve got a toy, don’t you?” he whispered in his ear.

He felt Naruto stiffen, tightening immediately around his fingers and Kakashi snorted. “What a naughty boy, you are…” he muttered as he stood back up, rubbing his cock down the crevice of his body. “You’ve been fingering yourself, and fucking yourself with something, what is it? A real toy, or did you use something else…?” he muttered.

His eyes settled on the top of the dresser where Naruto had his grooming supplies, including a paddle brush with a thick handle. He smirked and leaned over to grab the brush and smirked as he saw the glint of dried lube around the base. He wondered where he’d hidden the lube bottle… He noted the top drawer was slightly ajar. He slid the drawer open, not having to move from where he stood. Naruto’s room wasn’t very big. He fished around blindly and found something plastic. He pulled out a small bottle of lube. He leaned away and stroked the back of the brush across his ass, feeling him jerk at the hard plastic.

“Sensei?” Naruto said in surprise.

“Hush, naughty thing, you,” he muttered as he suddenly flicked his wrist and swatted him with the back of the brush. Naruto gasped but didn’t move more than to squirm a bit. “To fuck yourself with a brush handle, do you know how dangerous that is?” Swat. “You could have hurt yourself! And you havne’t properly cleaned it, I can see that!” Swat and groan, followed by quick pants. “You don’t even have a proper toy! If I catch you using something like this again,” he said and swatted his ass several times until he heard him make a sobbing sound. “I will come in here and spank you until you can’t sit!” One last swat.

“Please, Sensei, I’m sorry Sensei, I won’t do it again, please,” he whimpered, but when Kakashi ran his hands over his ass and down the front of his hips, he found he’d already cum once against the sheets.

“Well, now,” Kakashi said as he stroked him again. “You made a mess already,” he muttered, sliding his hands over the heated flesh on his ass. “But I guess I’ll give you what you want.”

He slid his fingers down and delved three into him at once. Naruto gasped and let out a low whine. “Yes, please,” he gasped out. Kakashi could see both hands were entwined in the sheets.

Kakashi flicked the bottle open and coated his cock with it with his other hand. He was somewhat a master at one handed lubing. He positioned himself careful, stroking his hands down Naruto’s hips.

“Relax, okay?” he said as he pressed forward slowly.

“Ah!” Naruto exclaimed. “Oh, ow…” he whimpered and buried his face in the covers.

Kakashi paused, barely having pressed the head past the tight ring of muscle. “Do I need to stop?” he asked as he gently stroked his hips.

“N-no…keep going…keep going…” Naruto gasped out. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Kakashi nodded, sliding forward until he’d fully seated himself inside Naruto’s quivering warmth. He growled, resisting the urge to just pull back and pound his ass as hard as he could. He bit his lip and leaned over a bit to reach down and stroke him back to arousal. He waited a few more moments until Naruto pressed back.

“Move, Sensei, please,” he muttered, his whole body wriggling against him.

It was somewhat awkward, since Kakashi had to be careful of Naruto’s back. He managed to have him several ways despite that. He finished him over the bed, then pulled him onto his lap as he sat against the headboard. By morning, they’d run out of energy and when Jiraiya checked on them, he found Naruto snuggled into Kakashi’s arms. Kakashi, even in his sleep, had managed to keep his hands and body off the fresh, healing tattoos on Naruto’s back. He stepped in, though, snagging the cover and tossing it over the two of them. He snorted. He would have to have a discussion with Naruto about ensuring he still got enough sleep…

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Kakashi woke with a start because he’d rolled off the sofa. He groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees and sighed.

“You were having a nice dream,” he heard from the nearby chair.

He looked over then looked down realizing he had a raging hard on. “Ugh, nice until I woke up…”

Sherlock looked away as Kakashi got up and tried to adjust himself, walking to the bathroom. Kakashi sighed, closing his eyes and willing the annoying arousal away as he stood over the sink. He hadn’t dreamed about their first night together in a long time. He sighed, coming out a few moments later and flopping into the sofa.

“For a man that can read and watch graphic pornographic material and not gain arousal, I find it interesting that you would have arousing dreams,” Sherlock observed.

“Hmm,” Kakashi muttered, reaching up and rubbing his left eye socket. Sometimes it got irritated. “Do you have any medical grade saline?”

Sherlock looked up from the paper. “Um, well, yes,” he said and went to rummage in the fridge. He wasn’t going to comment on why he had it. “Why?”

Kakashi sighed, taking the bag and nodding. “A clean bowl? Or cup?”

Sherlock went and retrieved it before he thought. He blinked. Wait, why was he fetching things for this man? He started to say something then realized what he was doing. He poured saline into the bowl and then reached up to his left eye and pressed around it in a couple spots. Sherlock heard an audible set of clicks and the eye fell out, leaving behind what looked like some sort of port. He leaned over and looked as Kakashi dropped the orb into the bowl.

“Ah, ye gods, that’s better,” he muttered as he massaged the area around his eye socket. “Prototypes, not ready for distribution yet, so there’s some…issues…” he muttered as he turned and looked at Sherlock with his one eye and the empty socket. There was what looked like a back with a small data port of some sort.

“Fascinating. So it is linked into your nervous system somehow?”

Kakashi nodded. “The base plate has a neuro integration circuit that attaches to my optic nerve. It is experimental of course, and it doesn’t work all the time. But the movement you noticed is due to the base plate. It reads movements of my other eye and mimics them on a slight delay.”

Kakashi sighed as he saw his phone vibrate. “I know what this is,” he muttered and put his finger to his lips as he answered the call on speaker. He spoke in Japanese of course, but he knew that Sherlock understood the language.

“Oyabun.”

“Hatake, what do you think you’re doing in England?” came the Oyabun’s voice.

“I’m on vacation. Retired, remember?” he said, trying to keep the smile in his voice.

“You are after Orochimaru. You need to stop. He is going to kill my grandson if you do not return home.”

“How would he know that I returned home, Oyabun? Unless he’s contacting you regularly,” he said with a narrowed glance at the phone.

“You know I’ve forbidden anyone to pursue him! Doing so endangers lives!”

Kakashi looked at Sherlock. “Leaving him free endangers more. We’ve found five bodies, Oyabun. Five. And he’s still got others he’s holding. You believe he will not kill them eventually? It has been nearly seven years! He must be stopped!”

“You will return! Or I will send Iruka to retrieve you!”

“Do it. I am not returning,” he said and clicked the line off. He sighed. “That could be a problem.”

“Who is Iruka?” Sherlock asked.

“My partner. If anyone can track me, it will be him. We need to find out where…” he stopped suddenly and looked up. “Oh, that’s smart,” he muttered as he turned, throwing Sherlock forward and snatching a throwing star from the air.

“Really?” Kakashi said and snatched his eye from the bowl and snapped it back into the socket.

“Why are you surprised to see me?” Sasuke said as he stood just inside the doorway. “You know that he knows where you are.”

“I’m not leaving without him,” Kakashi said as he glared at the other man.

“You mean Naruto, not the Oyabun’s grandson,” Sasuke said with a tilt of his head.

“Them,” Kakashi said. “I’m not leaving without them.”

“Kakashi-sensei, don’t act like you care about anyone except Naruto. You weren’t fucking them,” Sasuke said with a sigh.

Sherlock stood up. “You have John,” he said.

“We do. And if you two don’t stop trying to find us, your Dr. John won’t make it much longer. But in case you need encouragement, I thought I’d bring you what we send the Oyabun every month or so to keep him in line,” Sasuke said and tossed a flash drive at Kakashi. He caught it easily. “Back off, or you’ll be sorry,” Sasuke said as he turned and left.

“We should follow him!” Sherlock said and started to go toward the door. Kakashi put out a hand to stop him.

“No, he won’t go back there, not at first,” he said and turned back. “We need to see what this is,” he said as he sat down at the laptop.

Sherlock sat down beside him and they both watched in silence at what Sasuke had recorded. Sherlock saw the look on Kakashi’s face as he watched, and he knew unbridled rage when he saw it.

“I…you were right when you said it was more for me. I fell in love with the boy when he was twelve, and when he was seventeen, we became lovers. He was a grown up, and he made the choice. Then…Orochimaru turned and took him away. You asked why it took so long for me to go looking for him.” Kakashi turned and lifted the hair that covered the left side of his head. There was a spot where no hair grew with scar tissue. “He tried to execute me. I was in a coma for almost a year. Another to get back to normal, and they told me he was dead. They said Orochimaru had killed them all and was killed by our people. I went back to work, that’s the times I’ve been in England on jobs. While I was here last time, I got wind of the truth.”

Kakashi sighed deeply. “I confronted Jiraiya and he told me everything. And it took a while but I got here this time after retiring.”

Sherlock nodded. “Well, we have no choice but to find them,” he said with a nod of his head. “No choice at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Autism Self-Advocacy Network  
> • info@autisticadvocacy.org   
> • http://autisticadvocacy.org/   
> National Alliance on Mental Health  
> • 1-800-950-6264  
> • http://www.nami.org/   
> Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance  
> • 1-800-826-3632  
> • http://www.dbsalliance.org/   
> Transgender Youth Equality Foundation  
> • 207-478-4087  
> • http://www.transyouthequality.org/   
> Trans Student Educational Resources  
> • TSER@transstudent.org   
> • http://www.transstudent.org/   
> Stopbullying.gov  
> • https://www.stopbullying.gov/   
> PACERS National Bullying Prevention Center  
> • 1-800-537-2237  
> • http://www.pacer.org/bullying/   
> Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration  
> • 1-877-SAMHSA-7  
> • https://www.samhsa.gov/   
> National Suicide Prevention Hotline  
> • 1-800-273-8255  
> • https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/   
> Suicide Prevention Resources  
> • http://www.sprc.org/   
> American Foundation of Suicide Prevention   
> • https://www.afsp.org/   
> The American Association of Suicidology   
> • http://www.suicidology.org/   
> Crisis Text Line  
> • Text "Start" 741-741  
> • http://www.crisistextline.org/   
> S.A.F.E. Alternatives  
> • 1-800-DONTCUT  
> • http://www.selfinjury.com/   
> Trans Lifeline  
> • US: 1-877-565-8860 Canada: 1-877-330-6366  
> • https://www.translifeline.org/   
> GLBT National Youth Talk   
> • 1-800-246-7743 (M-F, 4pm-12am EST/Sat, 12pm-5pm EST)  
> The Trevor Project  
> • 1-866-488-7386 (24/7)  
> • Text “Trevor” 1-202-304-1200 (F 4pm - 8pm EST)  
> • http://www.thetrevorproject.org/   
> Disaster Distress Helpline   
> • 1-800-985-5990  
> • Text "TalkWithUs" 66746  
> National Sexual Violence Resource Center  
> • 1-877-739-3895  
> • http://www.nsvrc.org/   
> RAINN- Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network  
> • 1-800-656-4673  
> • https://www.rainn.org/   
> National Sexual Assault Hotline  
> • 1-800-656-4673  
> The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence  
> • 303-839-1852  
> • http://www.ncadv.org/   
> The National Domestic Violence Hotline  
> • 1-800-799-SAFE  
> • http://www.thehotline.org/   
> The National Resource Center on Domestic Violence  
> • 1-800-537-2238  
> • http://www.nrcdv.org/   
> Warm Ear Line  
> • 1-866-WARM EAR (927-6327)  
> • http://warmline.org/   
> National Human Trafficking Resource Center   
> • 1-888-373-7888  
> • Text BeFree (233733)  
> National Runaway Safeline   
> • 1-800-RUNAWAY (786-2929) (24/7)  
> • http://www.1800runaway.org/   
> USA National Child Abuse Hotline   
> • 1-800-422-4453 (24/7)  
> National Safe Place   
> • Text SAFE and your current location to the number 69866 (24/7)  
> • http://nationalsafeplace.org/   
> National Eating Disorders Association   
> • 800-931-2237 (M-F, 11:30 am-7:30 pm EST)  
> • http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/   
> ANAD: National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders   
> • 630-577-1330 (M-F,12 pm-8 pm EST)  
> • http://www.anad.org/


End file.
